


Second Chances

by matanee



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Death Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, I Made Myself Cry, Pregnancy, Resurrection, The Red Witch Made Me Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 16:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18920413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matanee/pseuds/matanee
Summary: He found it particularly soothing to think of Brienne of Tarth. Brienne, beautiful Brienne, the one person who ever came close to make him forget about Cersei. The person who confused him, who made him laugh, who trusted him against all odds, who would never betray him. It was comforting to think about her, to remember lying next to her in Winterfell, to hold her close and not think about anything for a few hours. It was less comforting to remember how she sobbed in the courtyard, watching him leave for the woman he swore he would never run back to again. So he tried to remember the good things, her smile and her laugh, her touch and her kiss. The only kiss that ever felt sweeter than Cersei's.In which I fix the ridiculous ending to this show by having Tyrion take Jaime's body to Meereen to have him resurrected by a Red Witch.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't published a fanfiction in AGES, so please bear with me, I might've lost some of my skills. Also, English is not my first language, and this fic is pretty spontaneous/not beta'd. Oh, and I've never read the books, so I'm not a true pro, I'm just a sad fangirl of a very gr8 ship that sank tragically.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Bianka, I hope that one day we will get to touch Nikolaj Niceass-Waldau's tummy. (/◕ヮ◕)/

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Cersei's face. The very face that, for most of his adult life, he thought was the most beautiful face in Westeros. It was only a split second, but he saw the horror in those green eyes. Tears shining on her cheeks, her lips trembling with fear.

Then, the image was gone and all he saw were orange and red lights playing on the ceiling. He felt aches all over his body and, as he tried to move his head to the side, he couldn't help the groan that escaped his mouth immediately. Even this subtle movement hurt like hell. Making that noise, that also hurt like hell. But he managed to move his head anyway, and that's when he saw his brother sitting next to him.

When their eyes met, Tyrion let out a relieved sigh.

"Tyrion?" Jaime tried his voice and it hurt a little less this time, but it was hoarse all the same. He had absolutely no idea where he was. He couldn't recall any memories, it seemed like his brain just stopped working. All he remembered was Cersei's face, nothing else.

"I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that," Tyrion said after a few moments of deep silence, then, he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He was crying. Jaime's brows furrowed as he tried to think harder.

"What happened?"

_Nothing else matters. Only us._

His heart clenched painfully at the memory. It came back to him gradually, one flashing image after another. The blood, the fire, the sound of an entire building collapsing around him. The trembling body of Cersei in his arms before the first stone hit him in the skull.

And right before it all went dark, the screeching sound of a dragon in the distance.

"You are not going to like this," Tyrion said quietly, and Jaime slowly turned his face towards the ceiling again. The ornate design of the walls, the warm sunlight dancing on the tapestry. He could tell now that this was a foreign land.

"It cannot be," he whispered, the memory of the Red Keep collapsing on them replaying in his mind again and again. He could still feel the last desperate grasp of Cersei's hand on his shoulder blades, holding on for dear life.

"Jaime--"

"I couldn't have survived..."

Jaime felt his breathing quickening. He felt the pain on his skull, exactly where he remembered the stone hit him. Then, he felt the phantom pain of a sword wound on his side.

"Euron Greyjoy," he turned to Tyrion again, more swiftly than before, not caring about the pain running down his spine. His brother sat in silence, watching him carefully. "He stabbed me on the beach. I was bleeding out."

"I know," Tyrion said softly, closing his eyes for a second. Jaime shook his head, the panic rising in his throat like bile.

"How did I survive this?" Jaime asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't remember the last time he was this terrified, not even while standing underneath a burning and collapsing building with Cersei in his arms. Cersei. "Did Cersei--?"

"No." Tyrion looked at him again, his eyes filled with sorrow. There was no trace of his former relief anymore. It was just... sadness. Jaime swallowed hard. "You both died."

The following silence was almost deafening. Jaime waited, maybe for an explanation, maybe for Tyrion to start laughing and tell him it's just a joke. He didn't laugh, he just sat there, worry written all over his face.

"What?" Jaime muttered, barely even hearing his own thoughts from his rapid heartbeat.

"I found you the next day," Tyrion said, his voice low. He could hardly look Jaime in the eye. "Under the ruins. I could only take one of you."

Jaime felt his mouth start to tremble. He still saw the tears in Cersei's eyes, one hand on her belly, trying so hard to protect her baby. _Their_ baby. To no avail.

"I dragged you from the ruins. I stole all the money I could find in that wretched place and told Ser Davos to take you to Meereen," Tyrion continued, wiping his eyes again. "A while back, I met a Red Witch here. I knew that they were capable of miracles."

He finally looked Jaime in the eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I had to do something, Jaime."

"What did you do?" Jaime asked, his voice nearly hysterical as he lay on that bed, trembling in his entire body. The panic was in his blood now, running through his limbs, and he could barely see his brother through the tears in his eyes.

"We brought you back," Tyrion said, his tears flowing freely now. "We brought you back from the dead."

For a few moments, silence. And then, Jaime screamed. He screamed until the world turned pitch black around him.

  
***

  
His recovery wasn't easy.

He wouldn't talk to Tyrion for weeks. He wouldn't talk to anyone, for that matter. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't drink, he wouldn't go outside. He just sat in his room, staring out the window onto the sea, onto the gardens. He would watch the people, all of them working, running, moving, living. Tyrion kept telling him that he got a second chance, something not many people get, something he should take advantage of. Jaime didn't feel like it was a gift.

How could it be? His unborn child was dead. Cersei was dead. King's Landing was destroyed. Nothing was the same as before. Everything he knew and trusted was gone, and he didn't fit into this world anymore. He went back home to die for a reason, and now he's here across the world, alive, all against his will.

After a month, he left his chambers to walk the gardens. Tyrion was back in King's Landing, but he left with a promise of coming back in only a couple of weeks. Jaime still couldn't look him in the eye, but Tyrion was his only family left. He did what he thought was right, even if it was selfish and unnatural, to say the least. Jaime wanted him back. He just didn't know how to handle him yet.

He walked through the gardens every evening, waiting for the sunset before retiring for the night. He was sure he was going to perish in the arms of the woman he loved. He never thought he would see a sunset again. Yet, here he was, sitting on a bench near the sea and waiting for the sun to disappear on the horizon. It was interesting how, for weeks, he could only think about Cersei and their last moments together. In the darkness of his chambers, he was always reminded of her, how all the hatred and selfishness disappeared from her eyes once she knew that death was inevitable. He kept asking himself, would she hate him now? She would definitely despise Tyrion for choosing _him_ to save. But would she hate Jaime for coming back, for surviving instead of her and their child? It was a question he would never have an answer for.

Once he left his room and started waiting for the sunset, his mind wandered elsewhere. Less towards the past and the dead, and more towards the future and the living.

He found it particularly soothing to think of Brienne of Tarth. Brienne, beautiful Brienne, the one person who ever came close to make him forget about Cersei. The person who confused him, who made him laugh, who trusted him against all odds, who would never betray him. It was comforting to think about her, to remember lying next to her in Winterfell, to hold her close and not think about anything for a few hours. It was less comforting to remember how she sobbed in the courtyard, watching him leave for the woman he swore he would never run back to again. So he tried to remember the good things, her smile and her laugh, her touch and her kiss. The only kiss that ever felt sweeter than Cersei's.

Tyrion came back two weeks later and joined Jaime on his evening walks. It was usually the younger who talked, sometimes to the point where Jaime could barely take it anymore. Other times, Tyrion was uncharacteristically quiet, like he was holding onto even more secrets that would shock Jaime to the core.

"You might want to consider coming back to Westeros with me," Tyrion told him once as they sat at Jaime's usual spot, watching the sun painting the whole sky orange and bright pink. The only sounds they heard were the seagulls and the waves crashing against the rocks on the shore, a sound that reminded Jaime of King's Landing very vividly. "The King pardoned you, you know."

"For what?"

It was the first time Jaime said anything in such a long time, he barely recognized his own voice. He could tell that Tyrion was a little surprised to hear him talk as well.

"For whatever crimes you committed," Tyrion shrugged and sipped from the bottle of wine in his hand. Jaime slowly took a breath.

"For what should I go back to Westeros?" He shook his head a little. "Nothing is left for me there."

"Westeros is your home," Tyrion looked at him, but Jaime was still staring into the sun. "You want to stay here and stare at the sky until you die?"

"I already died." Jaime turned his head slowly to look at his brother. "Of course, you thought making me the new Jon Snow would be a terrific idea."

Tyrion sighed in frustration and narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"Cersei ruined your fucking life," he muttered between his teeth, his eyes darker than usual. Jaime felt a pang of pain in his chest at her name. He wondered if it would ever be any different. "You obviously went to King's Landing to die with her, even when you were perfectly happy in Winterfell. You were her puppet all your life. I wanted to give you a second chance, without her."

"You don't get to make that choice!" Jaime yelled suddenly. "You don't play god!"

"You could've made that choice and you fucked it up!"

"And I was ready to pay for it!" he growled and grabbed Tyrion's shirt to jerk him closer. "I wanted to die with her!"

Tyrion stayed silent. Jaime let him go after a few more seconds, turning back towards the horizon and running his fingers through his hair in bitter anger.

"You could start all over again," Tyrion offered gently, his tone a lot softer and quieter than before. Jaime's eyes fell shut slowly. "Without her and her manipulation, her games, her poison, her hatred."

"My child died with her," Jaime murmured, eyes still closed. He remembered the moment Cersei told him she was pregnant. He remembered every single time she told him before. It was the same feeling to hear those words, a feeling Jaime was sure he would never get to experience again. "She's dead, and so are all of my children."

Tyrion didn't say anything at first. Then, he turned towards the sea and drank from his wine.

"You will have another child," he finally said, his voice low and completely void of emotions.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Stop it."

"Jaime," Tyrion said gently and turned to him again. There was something in his voice that Jaime couldn't resist, he had to look at his brother. "You will have another child."

Jaime looked at him for a few moments in silence as he tried to decide whether Tyrion just said these things for the sake of it or if he actually meant something by them.

"What?" he narrowed his eyes, and that's when he saw it. The smallest of smiles in the corner of Tyrion's mouth.

"Brienne of Tarth." Jaime's heartbeat picked up immediately. It cannot be. "She's with your child."

And just as the sun disappeared underneath the horizon, for the first time since his death, Jaime was reminded of what genuine happiness actually felt like.

  
***

  
When he first saw her, she didn't see him. She was talking to a servant at the market, most likely telling him what he should pick up from which vendor. Jaime watched her from behind a wagon, watched as she bit her lip while thinking, pointing to certain people, making sure the servant would write everything down.

_Her hair is longer_ , Jaime noted to himself as he took her in. He liked it this way. Of course, it was not the most noticeable thing on her.

It was her belly.

Cersei barely began showing signs of her pregnancy when she died. When _they_ died. Whenever she was pregnant before, she always had a relatively small belly, and she wore long robes to hide it a little bit more.

Not Brienne.

Her belly was huge, proud, and she never tried hiding it. She wore a gorgeous blue suit, one that was made especially for her pregnancy, in the most beautiful royal blue colour that emphasized her amazing eyes. She always had one hand on her belly, gently caressing it whenever she was in deep thought. Jaime's throat narrowed. It was his child in that belly, and Brienne was proudly claiming it. She did not hide in shame, she was proud of it, proud of a child that, as far as she knew, would grow up to be a bastard.

Brienne smiled at the servant boy and gently pat him on the head before he ran off. She stayed and sighed before she looked down at her belly and put both hands on it carefully. She smiled at it.

Jaime never had the time or the chance to really think about how he felt about this woman. As Tyrion said, Cersei had so much power over him, he never allowed himself the chance to break free from it for even a second, except when he was with Brienne. This gorgeous, tall woman with her beautiful heart, and with that beautiful baby in her belly.

_A second chance._

Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How could he just go up to her and expect her to want him again? After all he's done, how could he apologize for breaking her heart? Even if touching her and kissing her and feeling her under his fingertips was everything he'd wanted to do, how could he?

He only opened his eyes after he turned around to leave and never look back. He didn't expect Brienne to stand right in front of him.

He felt shame wash through him in waves as his first instinct was to run away. This wasn't supposed to happen, he was supposed to be careful and not hurt her anymore. Yet, here he was, staring into her huge blue eyes filled with disbelief, and all he felt was the rush of panic in his blood.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Brienne's eyes scanned his face carefully, the rugged lines, the beard, the long, unkempt hair. Tyrion told him looking like this was his best chance to not get recognized on their way to Tarth. All he really had to do was to wait for a good opportunity to find Brienne. He couldn't really do that either.

He couldn't look her in the eyes anymore so he chose a spot on her chest and stared there instead. He didn't want to wait and see the disbelief turn into hatred and disappointment, he just stood there, mesmerized by the royal blue of her clothes, trying to calm his raging heartbeat by taking deep breaths.

It was a lost cause the moment Brienne raised her hand and touched his face.

Jaime's eyes immediately closed and a shallow sigh escaped him at the touch. There was a lump in his throat, ready to burst any moment. He realized now how much he missed this touch. He didn't deserve it but he craved it, the familiarity of it, the softness of it. Brienne's fingertips brushed against an old bruise on his cheekbone, then, her thumb gently touched his lower lip, and he felt his entire body trembling.

"It's really you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, and Jaime gave a short nod as an answer. When he opened his eyes, he saw Brienne's belly barely touching his old and worn out tunic, and he couldn't help but smile a little. It was even bigger up close. Maybe the child was going to be tall like Brienne and blonde like the both of them, with her gorgeous blue eyes.

"May I?" Jaime asked, his voice trembling. Brienne, with her hand still on Jaime's face, nodded after a moment.

"You may."

With his hand shaking, he gently touched Brienne's belly. Even through the fabric of her clothes it was warm, and he slowly pressed his palm against it, smiling at how firm it was. It was only a matter of weeks before the baby would be born.

"I cannot ask you to forgive me," Jaime murmured, his voice weak and small. "But you must know..."

"Jaime," Brienne said quietly, her voice filled with tears. Jaime shook his head a little.

"You made me happy," Jaime looked up at her. "In this wretched world, you made me happier than I ever thought I could be."

There was no hatred in Brienne's eyes, nothing he would've expected to see there. Instead, it was filled with tears and relief, a look that left Jaime breathless.

"You came back," she murmured and laughed weakly, now with both of her hands on Jaime's face. "I thought I lost you."

It was the first time Jaime felt a sliver of gratitude towards Tyrion for making the choice of bringing him back. He didn't think it would ever be a cause for happiness to anyone, but seeing Brienne like this, Jaime realized that there was one person who truly loved him, apart from his brother.

He turned his face gently to press a kiss on the inside of Brienne's wrist, the smell of her skin heartwarming and familiar. In that moment, he could feel the baby move in her belly, and they looked at each other for a long moment before they both released a teary laugh at the same time.

"Do you have a name yet?" Jaime asked, caressing her belly gently as the baby kept moving around to get more comfortable.

"No," Brienne shook her head with a smile. "I knew if it were a boy, I would've named him Jaime after you, but now that you're here, I'm not so sure."

Jaime looked down and stayed silent for a few moments as he moved his hand from Brienne's belly and reached for her hand instead. It was warm and fit in his own exactly as he remembered.

"Would you... Would you still want me?" he asked carefully, like a boy after a scolding. He was on the edge whenever he remembered her in that courtyard, crying her heart out, especially now that he knew he didn't leave just her. He also left their baby, and that was even worse.

When Brienne squeezed his hand lightly and cupped his face more firmly, Jaime looked her in the eyes again.

"We will need time to figure this out," she said, her voice low but kind as ever. "But I want to figure it out. With you, by my side. By our side."

She pulled his hand up to her belly and held it there, her gaze dropping to his lips for just a split second before looking in his eyes again. He was absolutely speechless.

"Come with me," she whispered with a smile, and squeezed his hand one more time before she turned around and started walking towards the palace. She didn't let go of his hand.

And Jaime followed. Without a single word.

  
***

  
That night, as they laid side by side in Brienne's bed, Jaime couldn't take his eyes off her. Both of them were naked, with some of the furs barely covering them in the warm night of Tarth, and Jaime could've sworn he had never seen anything more beautiful than her. Her belly was even bigger as she laid down on her side. She was glowing, and Jaime couldn't keep his hand to himself, he had to touch her constantly.

She didn't seem to mind.

"What was it like?" she asked quietly, one arm reached out to gently play with Jaime's hair. He knew he needed a haircut desperately, also a good shave, but it was a task for another day. "In Meereen?"

Jaime drew circles around Brienne's belly button with his finger as he thought back to Meereen. He shrugged lightly.

"Warm. Different. A lot of bugs," he smirked, and Brienne rolled her eyes with a smile. "I liked the sunsets."

"Those are not really specific to Meereen."

"Indeed," Jaime nodded. "But after coming back from the dead, you find joy in the most mundane things sometimes."

She stopped playing with his hair slowly and Jaime could feel the air around them changing. He knew that bringing it up would result in this, but he also knew it was inevitable. Sooner or later, they would have to talk about it.

"I'm sorry about Cersei," she said gently, and Jaime looked at her with a good load of disbelief written all over his face.

"You're sorry that Cersei died?" he furrowed his brows. Brienne's expression stayed serious.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Jaime's skeptical smile slowly disappeared and he looked down at her belly again. Not thinking about Cersei for a few hours was a relief, but thinking about her with Brienne by his side didn't seem so daunting all of a sudden either. Having their baby under the palm of his hand made everything a lot more bearable.

"I don't expect you to forgive me for leaving you," he said quietly. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "But Cersei was everything to me, for my whole life. Someone once told me that she was a sickness. She really was. And I was addicted to her."

"I know." She didn't say it with ire in her voice, she was full of understanding, despite everything. Jaime looked at her again and watched her face, the hurting in her eyes, the small, weak smile forming in the corner of her pink lips, trying to signal to him that she would be fine. But Jaime knew better. He knew that Cersei wasn't a sickness only affecting him. She hurt everyone she ever laid eyes on.

"Now that I came back from it, I don't think death is my worst fear anymore," he said quietly. "I'm much more terrified of becoming her. Of poisoning everyone around me. Especially you. Or the baby."

He felt a cold shiver run through him and he pulled his hand from her belly slowly. Before he could've pulled it back completely, Brienne gently took him by the wrist and brought his hand to her lips. She pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, each one of them, then, she put his hand back on her belly, just as the baby carefully moved around again. Jaime couldn't help smiling at that.

"I really don't like repeating myself," Brienne said quietly and Jaime looked up at her face. "But I will tell you one more time: you are not your sister. You will never become her. Understand this."

"How are you so sure?" Jaime whispered, shaking his head a little. _I left you once before_ , he thought to himself, words he could never say out loud but knew were in the air between them anyway. He wanted to believe he wouldn't do that again, but what is the guarantee?

"It really depends on you," she answered. "Cersei is dead. The old world is gone. You have a choice to be someone I know you are, or to walk out of that door right now and never come back again. Making this choice is not that difficult for the Jaime I know."

There was no doubt in her eyes and he couldn't help but feel surprised. She really trusted him to make the right choice. She trusted him to love her and their child, to let go of the past and build something new and worthwile.

He wasn't sure whether Cersei had trusted him to such extent, ever.

He slowly pressed himself closer to her, as close as he could with her belly and his hand between them, and he gently touched his lips to hers. He could feel a shiver run through her body as she raised her arms and wrapped them around him, pulling him even closer, impossibly close. The moment her mouth opened under his and the kiss deepened, Jaime moved his hand to her back and rested it on the nape of her neck. Feeling the warmth of her skin and her breath in the space between them, he was reminded of how it felt to truly be alive.

After that, it really wasn't a choice to ponder about any longer.


End file.
